You Know You Want To
by Mythra
Summary: A one shot SW:KotOR story. A lightsaber fight between a long dead, 4000 year old Sith Lord, and a former dark lord struggling not to fall to the Dark Side.


_What in space was I thinking_

That question echoed through his thoughts as he swung his saber experimentally. Darian Khadae's blue blade was ignited and poised for an attack as he took a fighting stance. Before him stood an ancient Sith Lord, in his hands he held twin sabers, the red glow from the blades blended with the light of Darian's blue bathing everything in a purple light. The Sith Lord that stood before him was the once powerful Ajunta Pall, whose sword was said to be more fearsome than its master.

It had been because of this sword that he had come here in the first place. This blade was what he needed to impress Master Uthar. There had been other ways that he could have chosen to impress the head of the Sith Academy, but Darian was never one to do things by halves. Besides, he figured that he could get that blade; he would be one step closer to the tomb that housed the Star Map. And that meant that he would be one planet closer to Bastila.

It had all seemed so easy. The apparition had told him that all he needed to do was place the right sword on the statue, and he would be able to take it. Of course Darian had managed to screw this task up. If he had been concentrating on this task instead of thinking of her, then he would never have placed that wrong sword on the statue.

_Oh, that's right. I wasn't thinking._

Well, that hadn't been entirely true. He _had_ been thinking, just not about which sword was best. He had been thinking about her, hoping that she was alright, that Malak wasn't hurting her too badly. Just the thought of her in pain tore at his heart.

Jolee had told him not to go for the sword. He had told him that he was not ready yet, he had too much on his mind. Darian had, of course, ignored him. He had wanted to get his mind off things, like the fact that Bastila was no longer there. Like the fact that the man that he had become good friends with no longer trusted him, acting like he would pull his blaster out and shoot him at the first opportunity he got. Like the fact that it turned out that the Jedi had lied to him the whole time and it turned out that he wasn't Darian Khadae, but Revan, Malak's former Master.

Taking a deep breath, he swung his blade again never taking his eyes from the ghostly Sith Lord that stood before him. In his head echoed the words that Master Vrook had said to him before he had left Dantooine. Those words… they seemed like a lifetime ago. That was before he had lost Bastila; before half of the people in his crew had hated him; before he had found out that he was…

Darian pushed that thought from his mind. If he didn't concentrate on this he would lose this battle, and he could not afford to lose this. Everything that was to come rode on the outcome of this battle. He had decided to come alone to this tomb solving the puzzles to pass its defences before making it to the crypt. He was now starting to regret that he had done so, but he just could not face the dark glares that the people he had thought were his friends shot in his direction when his back was turned.

Taking up the best defensive stance he could think of, pushing all doubts from his mind and using the Force to guide him, Darian felt that he stood a chance as long as he didn't do anything too extreme or stupid. He had to make it through this battle, not just for Bastila's sake. But for the sake of the Republic as well.

He moved swiftly as Ajunta Pall attacked first with great ferocity. Darian blocked the Sith Lord's first attack with his lightsaber, the twin red blades clashing against the blue of Darian's lightsaber. Darian was slightly caught by the fact that, although a ghost, the 4,000 year old Sith Lord still proved to be a powerful adversary. It took almost all of the strength that he possessed to push Pall back from him.

Darian could clearly see now that this ghost was no amateur with the blade. His prowess with the saber was almost as legendary was his sword. He was going to have to rely on the Force for this battle. The Force and being able to spot any weaknesses in his enemy's fighting ability.

Thinking quickly, never taking his eyes from the ancient Sith Lord, Darian realised that one of the advantages that the apparition had over him was his twin blades. If he could manage to get one of his sabers from him, then he might stand a chance of winning. It was a slim chance at best, but to him, a slim chance was better than nothing.

He watched as Pall changed his fighting stance. Darian's thoughts were racing as he watched the ghostly Sith Lord's every move. He was watching him, waiting for an opening, a mistake.

_Come on, make a mistake._ Darian willed as he blocked another attacking blow from the twin sabers. His blue blade had stopped the blades inches from his face. Drawing on the Force, Darian used it to push Pall away from him so that he could recover from the attack and counter with a move of his own. He needed to get one of the blades from Pall.

Doing a movement with the flick of his wrist, his blade came down on Pall's right hand knocking the lightsaber from his grip. As the saber flew from Pall's hand, Darian reached out with the Force and pulled the blade to his hand. The Sith Lord cried out in anguish at the loss of his blade quickly changing his blade from his left hand to his right. Attacking Darian with more ferocity than before, he brought the blade down upon him again and again trying to get the Jedi to submit.

Darian wasn't about to let him win. With two blades in his hands, he used Ajunta Pall's red saber to block the swings that rained upon him, as he buried his own blade into the Sith Lord's body. With a triumphant grin, Darian stepped back confident of his win.

But it wasn't to be. Something was wrong; Ajunta Pall was… he was laughing at him, laughing at Darian Khadae. Rage started to simmer within him. No one laughed at him, he was Revan, Former Sith Lord. No one laughed at him, not the Jedi, not Malak, and especially not 4,000 year old Sith Lords.

"Is that the best you're got?" The spirit taunted him. "Did you think that I, a Sith Lord, could be beaten by the likes of you, a man who doesn't know if he is a pathetic Jedi, or a Sith Lord?"

Ajunta Pall chuckled at him throwing his head back as he did so. As he spoke to him, Darian felt like his vision was blurring. He could have sworn that Pall was changing shape. It took a moment before he realised that he _was_ changing shape first changing his body then his face.

The face looked familiar to him; in fact the figure that Pall had transformed himself looked familiar. Instead of the Dark Jedi uniform, it wore Jedi robes. The hooded and masked figure of Ajunta Pall had now been replaced by that of Bastila Shan. Her clothing, her hair, Darian was sure that this figure even had her scent. The moment he saw her, he almost fell to his knees. She was here; she had appeared at this time when he had been trying not to think about her.

"Bastila," Darian whispered not believing his eyes. He barely noticed as the figure came towards him, a red lightsaber gripped tightly in her hand. "Bastila, h-how did you…?"

He never completed that sentence, all he felt was the burning sensation in his stomach as she plunged the blade into him just he had done with Ajunta Pall only moments before. The light sabers he held in his hands fell to the floor deactivated and forgotten. Darian stared into her eyes as she did it, slowly coming to the realisation that this was not Bastila.

"You're not her," he whispered, angry at himself for being tricked into something as a simple as Sith mind trick. The figure wearing Bastila's face laughed at him as she pulled the saber from him, watching Darian as he fell to the ground clutching the wound in his stomach.

_It wasn't her. It never was her. You're a fool Revan._

It hadn't been Bastila. Darian could not believe that he would be so stupid as to be distracted by a Sith trick. Bastila was his weakness, he could see that now. He had been too busy thinking about her when he left his companions on the _Ebon Hawk_. It was her he had thought of when he had entered this tomb intent on retrieving the sword. Her face had been what he saw when he placed the wrong sword on that statue. Bastila was his weakness. It had been because of her that he was in this predicament in the first place.

But Darian could not help but wonder if another reason he was where was right now was because of the Jedi. If he hadn't been brainwashed by the Jedi, if he had been what he once was, then he would never have made that mistake. This was not only Bastila's fault, the Jedi were to blame for this as well.

With anger barely kept under control, he weaved the Force around himself to close up his wound. He was still going to be in a lot of pain, but at least he could continue fighting this battle. Ajunta Pall had to die. Bastila had to die.

He reached out and grasped his lightsaber which was barely within reach and slowly got up from the ground. He stood and faced his enemy feeling the anger within him grow when he saw her face. The face of Bastila Shan. Ajunta Pall had done this on purpose. He had wanted to distract him and had succeeded in his task. Revan would not have fallen for such a trick. In the shadows of his mind, Darian could feel Revan lurking tempting him become what he once was. All he had to do was give in to that anger.

"You know you want to do it, become what you once were," The figure that hid in the shadows of his mind whispered. "Become Revan."

Darian didn't want to, but he was so angry at everything. At Bastila for being his weakness, at the Jedi for lying to him, at his "friends" for not being there for him, and at Ajunta Pall for daring to laugh at him. He was Revan and nobody laughs at Revan.

"You've been dead for 4,000 years already," he snarled never taking his eyes from the figure. "I'm going to kill you dead this time. And you won't be coming back. I am Revan, no one laughs at me."

Embracing the anger that he felt within him, Revan stepped forward bringing his blade down upon the ghostly figure. All that mattered now was his survival. He chopped and hacked at the figure before him determined to win this battle. He had to find a way for destroying this spirit. Revan wanted him to die, wanted his enemy to be so utterly destroyed that nothing would bring him back. The last time he had used his saber against him, it had not worked. The spirit had just laughed at him like a maniac, as if gloating at him. But Revan knew that every man could be defeated, even the long dead spirits of a man. He just had to work out how he was going to do it.

His thoughts raced as he swung his blade at the spirit. Ajunta Pall still wore Bastila's form as a shield. If was almost as if he thought that Revan wouldn't attack him if he saw Bastila's face. But he was wrong. Revan had no desire to be weakened by the face of a Jedi woman. She had lied to him about everything, and he hoped that she suffered at the hands of Malak.

He blocked another attack from Pall, the red blade crashed against his own. Revan wondered quietly if he was to attack the spirit with the famed sword if that would kill him. There was only one problem that Revan saw with that idea. He still possessed two blades which icould/i be the sword of Ajunta Pall. And right now, he didn't have the time to work out which one it was. That left him with one option. The Force. Revan would have to find some Force power to use against him.

Revan pushed the spirit off him with his saber and quickly thought about the different Force powers he could use against him. Most of what he had learned from the Jedi was useless; it was all defensive and healing powers. The only thing that would be of any use would be Force Push. He was going to have to dig deeper to the appropriate abilities. Dig deeper to find the abilities he had once used a lifetime ago.

_Ah, yes._

He found one. It had been buried pretty deep within his memories. This one had been taught to him long ago in the darkness of the unknown regions. It was a special ability that could be used to drain the life force of other beings. The Jedi Masters had done well to hide these abilities from him. Now that he knew they existed, nothing was going to stop from taking back what was his. Not the Jedi, not the Republic and not the long dead Sith Lord that stood before him now.

He stood for a moment staring at the spirit before him, he still looked like Bastila, but that didn't faze him now. All he wanted was to disperse his spirit to the four winds, take his sword to win that prestige from Master Uthar and to return to the _Hawk_ to have a "discussion" with his "friends."

Revan stepped closer to the spirit swinging the blue bladed saber in this hand, the lightsaber that he had stolen from the ancient Sith Lord now lay forgotten on the floor of the tomb. As far as he was concerned, it was now or never. Revan jumped up bringing his blade down upon the spirit. As Ajunta Pall blocked, holding his blade high above his head, Revan reached out and grabbed his wrist. Drawing upon the Force, he started to drain the energy from his ghostly enemy.

Ajunta Pall screamed in anguish the moment that Revan touched him. He tried to hack at him with his lightsaber in an attempt to stop him from draining him of energy. Revan would not give up. He held on to his wrist using his blade to block any blows that the spirit managed to get him with.

Revan could feel the darkness of Ajunta Pall's power running through his veins now. He could taste the Dark Side as it poured into him. "I will drain you of all life until you are nothing." Revan noticed that the spirit was no longer wearing the face of Bastila that he had used to taunt him. He was now the same hooded and masked man that he was when he entered the tomb, but he was now looking a little pale as if the energy that Revan was draining from him was his life substance, all that made him exist on this plane.

"Know that with your death, I will become stronger. You, however, will cease to exist." It gave him great pleasure to say that. Ajunta Pall fell to his knees, the lightsaber he carried in his hand deactivated as it dropped to the floor with a loud clatter. He had stopped struggling now knowing that his defeat was imminent. He stared up at Revan, he eyes pleading. He was long dead, but he didn't want to cease to exist all together. He was, or had been a Sith Lord. A Sith Lord never dies.

Revan did nothing but stare down at the spirit. He felt no emotion as he drained away the last of Ajunta Pall's essence. "He was weak anyway," Revan snarled as he scooped the fallen lightsaber. He walked over to the statue and took the sword from its perch. It had been the wrong sword, he knew that now. But he still wanted it. He had worked hard for this prize.

Tucking the blade away in his robes, he felt a new power within him. All he could think about now was getting back to the Sith Academy and claiming his prize. Once he had the Star Map, he would return to the _Ebon Hawk _and sort out his friends from his foe. A laugh escaped from his throat as he left the room. None of his "friends" would know what hit them. He smirked at that realisation. That was what pleased him even more.


End file.
